


There is an old house...

by Lost_Elf



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Heavy Angst, Horror, Implied/Referenced Torture, It doesn't make sense, M/M, Short, Whump, Wordcount: 100-500, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: A very short creepy(?) story.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Kudos: 18





	There is an old house...

There is an old house in the woods of a small, unimportant planet. It is a good fifteen minute walk from the nearest town, and children sometimes dare each other to go there. They are scared of the house, everybody is.

There is a straw man in the garden, and that is what the children are afraid of the most, though the owner of the house is a close tie. Legends trade among the children of the straw man moving, making sounds, living. It looks so real, after all.

The adults know better. For they know that the straw man is indeed a living man. A steel rod goes as far into the ground as it goes into the man's ass. More, wooden rods hold up the rest of his body, saving him from impalement were he to pass out. The torn and dirty rags cover up the injuries on his body, a sack hiding his face.

The man usually rests during the day, gaining strength, uncaring about the permanent injuries he is inflicting upon himself by not even trying. For – and the bravest of the older kids know – there is no straw man in the garden at night. But there are screams and wails coming from the old house's basement.

If someone would ever be brave enough to peek through the small basement window, they would see horrific things that would make them go crazy. They would hear the house owner yell: _This is how I felt when you killed me, Rhys!_

It might be less scary for them in the early hours of the morning. If they looked just before the sun was about to rise, they would see a man gently tending to another one’s injuries. Maybe they would see lovemaking. Maybe, the blue-and-brown eyed man would look up and look them directly in the eyes, and they would see that his soul had left his body long ago.

Only the birds have ever seen the house owner putting up his straw man, covering his face and kissing his forehead. But they won’t tell, for the guardian of the flowers and crops forbid them. Because maybe, where his soul left his body, Jack’s took over, and he knows that now he is something better.


End file.
